Bonaparte, tired of his consulate for life, and anointed Emperor December 2, 1804, by a priest whom he called from Rome to Paris for that purpose, known as Pope Pius VII., had raised against himself and his family pretensions the more ancient usurpers of Europe, whose equally bold seizure of the right to govern people, and to take their money whereon to live in ease, was veiled and historically disguised by a few score years of unrighteous possession. Of course the ancient usurpers despised and made faces at the newest. Armies composed of thousands of common people—farmers, mechanics, and poor laborers—padded in bright-colored clothes out of moneys borrowed on their credit and to be repaid by their children, were hurled by these usurpers at each other at Ulm, Austerlitz, and Jena; and after the smoke of the shocks rolled off, it was found that all the crowned graspers were badly shaken up and shattered, and had limped away exceedingly hurt in pride and limb, excepting England only, which, mistress of the water by the victory of Nelson at Trafalgar, in 1805, thrust her hated trident into the face of the master of the land. The sea-tossings of the combatants became profitable to our neutral commerce, which picked up out of the ports of each the articles needed by the other, and laid them down on the rival wharves. England had become too much of a trader and shopkeeper to see such results with complacency, even if, as a belligerent, she could not participate in the dividends. And so, in May, 1806, she attempted to inaugurate against France—in addition to actual hostilities—a paper blockade, by declaring, in a well-sealed and highly respectable looking document, about two thirds of the Continent of Europe, including the French territory and its dependencies, in a state of blockade. Without a blockading squadron to deliver this document and to enforce the blockade, this declaration was an empty bravado, and a fraud on the rights of neutrals. This dog-in-the-manger device to stop the trade it could not supply provoked the newest usurper to a like policy. Napoleon, equally blinded by his resentments, and equally unconscientious in his handling of international law, issued from Berlin a counter document, also well sealed and incapable of delivery, declaring the British Isles in a state of blockade. Without ships—those marine constables—to serve papers and bring offenders within maritime jurisdiction, these orders and decrees became mischievous threats, making lawful trade piracy, and subjecting neutral merchant vessels to arrest, detention, search, and condemnation. England now put forth another pretension. As by the feudal law it was held that “once a subject always a subject,” of course a fortunate Bull remained a Bull, even when seeking work or protection on an American vessel. American ships were thus required to stop on the high seas and be searched for truant English stock. Such a bull England might make of herself; but she was so angry as not to see that neutrals would not become such silly calves as to be driven off by these big-looking shouts.
The question was sharply stated by the Leopard, a British man-of-war, to the Chesapeake, an American frigate, on board of which it was claimed were four British seamen. The refusal to permit the ship’s hold to be looked into not pleasing the Leopard, she fell unexpectedly upon the little frigate and tore the supposed bulls with horny claws out of the grasp of the American. The sight offended all America, especially as it turned out that three of the four seamen were American citizens.
President Jefferson expressed the national resentment in a proclamation interdicting all British ships entering our ports. Great Britain made another bull by half apologizing and delivering up two of the four seamen. The lesson of the stamp duties had not illuminated the density of George III. He had not learned that half-apologies are confessions of wrong, but no atonement.
Further experiments were mutually made by the two enraged fighters on neutral rights and international decencies. In November Great Britain forbade any one trading with France; and France, equally enterprising, ordered the stoppage of all trade with England. Our government replied to these illegal proceedings by an embargo on all vessels in our ports, foreign and domestic. From December, 1807, until March, 1809, marine beaux were abundant, and young ladies joyous. When the embargo was raised the hopes of the latter sank. They became more desponding still when the government forbade all commercial correspondence with France and England.
CHAPTER VII.
THE UNITED STATES AT SEA; OR, MADISON’S CRUISE.
1809–1817.
The Captain and Officers of the “Seventeen Sisters” which put to Sea in a Gale.—Diplomatic Talks.—Difference between one’s own Cows gored, and one’s own Bull in a Neighbor’s Field stoned, exemplified.—Cave canem.—Bonaparte improves the Code Napoleon.—Executions before Trials.—Horace Greeley fights benevolently into the World.—Louisiana and her Vivacious Debts taken in; what sweetened them.—Witch-Hazel Rods of Clay, Cheves, etc., dip to the National Mines of Feeling.—Our Second Wrestling-Match with England.—The Hull-sale Surrender of Michigan.—Colonel Cass breaks his Sword, and gets an Anglo-phobia.—Better Hulls on the Water.—America marries the Sea.—A Wasp on a Frolic.—Marine Flirtations and Engagements.—The Constitution, an Old Sea-Flirt; her rapid Winning and Wooing of the Java.—South Carolina loses a Presidential Candidate.—Of the Three Armies afield.—Harrison at Tippecanoe and the Thames.—Colonel R. M. Johnson’s life-long Chase for Tecumseh’s Scalp.—Toronto emptied and filled.—General Brown, a Real Man, in Spite of his Name.—General Wade Hampton.—Court-Martials, and how they touch off Military Charges.—The United States at Sea on Land.—The Hornet on a Peacock.—An Immortal Word wrung from a Mortal Moment.—Commodore Perry.—General Scott improves the Niagara Frontier for Hack-Drivers.—Macdonough charges Lake Champlain with Heroic Ingredients.—English Marine Parades.—Cotton Breastworks at New Orleans.—Their Feminine Adoption.—The Treaty of Peace and its Wonderful Omissions.—Costs and Gains of the War.—The Hartford Convention and its Equestrian Exploits.—Mr. Calhoun and Invisible Ink.
James Madison, who for eight years past had been first mate on our national craft, was in 1809 promoted by its owners, the people, to be Captain,—Mr. C. C. Pinckney, of South Carolina, receiving a complimentary vote, as a Palmetto fillup. The captain’s principal officers were: first mate, or Secretary of State, Robert Smith; second mate, or Secretary of War, William Eustis; purser, or Secretary of the Treasury, Albert Gallatin; boatswain, or Secretary of the Navy, Paul Hamilton; and Cæsar A. Rodney, piper, or Attorney-General. Much need was there of a judicious set of officers on the quarter-deck, as well as of a good crew in the forecastle; for the Seventeen Sisters were about to put to sea, with high storms blowing off and on the coast.
Much talk was there, as soon as Mr. Madison entered upon his duties, between British envoys, Mr. Erskine first and Mr. Jackson afterwards, on the one side, and our Mr. Smith on the other, about our Non-intercourse Act. Of course the Britons did not like to have their own commercial cows gored by our bulls; although they had enjoyed immensely the sight of their own unmuzzled Durhams pushing wildly among our young cattle. The British government—or, rather, their accredited agent, Mr. Erskine—promised to repeal the obnoxious orders in council. Taking the principals at their agent’s word, our government good-naturedly proclaimed the renewal of commercial intercourse with England. Thereupon, George III.—now entering the fiftieth year of king-craft, without any improvement of his crass German notions by a cross with British principles of shop-keeping—repudiated the acts of his agent. The friendly hand we had offered we now took back, giving a perceptible contraction to its muscles as we drew it in. For three years we pocketed our fists and indignities.
In 1809 England had stationed cruisers off our coast to seize our merchantmen, and send them in as prizes to her ports. Every American ship-owner saw mosaicked at the outlet of every American harbor the warning, cave canem, without being at liberty to stone the dog which flew at him. Bonaparte, blood red with Spanish and Portuguese victories, turning in cold, dynastic selfishness from the heart-faithful but childless Josephine, and drawing to her place the reluctant, refrigerating Maria Louise, undismayed by the fear of our junction with the fifth coalition formed against him by England, Austria, Spain, and Portugal, imitated for a time the swaggering injustice of England towards us. In March, 1810, improving upon the Code Napoleon, by execution before suit, he decreed the seizure and summary condemnation of all American vessels entering French ports. This boyish, pouting, and self-extinguishing policy he gave up in November following. England was left alone in keeping unneighborly mastiffs.
Meanwhile, in the midst of the effervescence of national sediment thus foaming up in yeasty ebullition, Horace Greeley, February 3, 1811, fought into life. Ever since that successful contest, the world has advanced with quickened forces. Benevolence felt reinforced by combative intellect, which borrowed the club of logic and strong adjectives to persuade error to keep the ways of tribunitial thought. Soon after Mr. Greeley’s birth, Mr. Smith gave up the State Department to James Monroe, who, for the three years following, found ample employment for his executive abilities, in the double duties of this branch added to those of the War bureau.